Every Breath We Drew
by nachalainne
Summary: Seventh year Lily Evans wakes up James Potter from a nightmare and gets different answers than what she was expecting.


This was the purest form of agony: all of your bones separating at once, your veins exploding under your skin as it was shredded from your body – and never in his life had he ever experienced anything quite so painful before now. The reason for his suffering writhed on the ground in front of him as he was forced to watch.

"Lily! LILY, NO! Let her go, god damn you!" He fought like a madman against the magical restraints, twisting sharply as his own energy struggled with the force that held him tightly in place. There was no give, and he knew it. He couldn't break free, and more importantly, he couldn't get to the girl who meant more to him than his own life.

On the ground, her body wrenched from side to side in ways that no human ever should. Her arms flailed, legs twisting in the curse that trapped her. Lily's face twisted, contorted in a mask of pain. Worse even than watching was the sound of her voice – an agonizing shriek amid a high-pitched piercing laugh that cut him to the bone.

"James!" More than once he caught his name amid the screaming, making him fight all the harder to get to her. He had to save her, even if it was the last thing he did. "James!" she cried again, her voice somehow even closer than before, but the image was quickly slipping away. Her face disappeared, leaving only the fiery redness of her hair in the darkness, before everything went black.

"James, wake up!"

Gasping, he sat straight up, Lily's face flooding his vision as his eyes flicked open. Of course – it was just a nightmare. His hands gripped the edge of the couch he was spread out on, knuckles white with his effort to hold on. The pain in his body subsided for a moment, returning when he saw the concern in her startling green eyes.

"I'm sorry…" He winced as his voice cracked, swallowing hard in an effort to ease the dryness in his throat, but the raw sound persisted.

"Don't apologise… are you alright?"

If only she knew. He shook his head. "But I'll survive," he added with a roguish half-smile.

Her expression didn't change.

"James… that was more than a year ago."

He looked away. There was something so piercing in the way she stared at him; her eyes demanded the truth, and he knew he couldn't give it to her.

"It's not something you forget," he answered quietly. Letting go of the couch, he rubbed his face quickly, trying to discreetly wipe away the tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes. "I'm fine. Really."

She watched him silently for a moment. "James…"

"Really, Evans. I'll be fine—don't worry about me. I survived then; I'll survive a few nightmares."

"You were screaming my name."

His heart stopped. After several dangerously slow seconds, he looked up at her again. "What?"

"Don't, James. You were screaming my name in your sleep. You said 'Lily. Lily, no. Leave her alone, god damn you." There was such a seriousness to the way she repeated what he had been screaming that he knew there was no denying it.

But damn it, he was going to try. "I- I don't remember th-" She cut him off before he could finish the lie. "Stop it."

"I've known you for six and a half years, James Potter. Don't think I'll suddenly start believing your lies now."

God damn her for being so smart.

"Yeh… you never believe me when I tell you Sirius is a vampire either. Most of the second years do."

"Stop deflecting."

Shit, why did she know all of his tricks so well? He looked away again – he couldn't tell her what had happened. There was no explaining that he'd had this particularly nightmare nearly a dozen times before. Whenever he closed his eyes her face filled his vision, and sometimes it wasn't a happy sight.

"James. Tell me the truth."

He opened his mouth to give her another line.

"It was you… You were there in the graveyard with me, with him. Being tortured by Voldemort. That's why I was screaming – at him – I was trying to get him to stop, I guess. Not that it did anything, but I had to try."

Wait, fuck, that wasn't a lie. What the hell was he saying? Lily's expression softened – those bright green eyes sinking to a paler sage, as she watched him.

"… why?"

"Well, I wasn't goin' to let him torture you. That would've been shitty of me, after putting you in the dream."

"Not that… why me?"

This was his chance for a smooth recovery. "Because I'm mad on you." Fuck, Potter—shut the hell up! "Lily, I love you. I've been in love with you for years now. I know you hate me, and I know my pathetic attempts to get your attention always went so horribly wrong but it's true. And you probably won't believe it, but- … but that's how it is."

Well, fuck. There went his year. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for the rejection, and couldn't muster a single fiber of defence. It she shut him down now, it'd be a perfect head shot, right between the eyes.

Lily stayed silent for a long time. As he waited, he took note of the fact that this pain – the sharp hurt that hinged on her words – it was a hundred times more painful than Voldemort's best Cruciatus Curse. Even the Dark Lord couldn't hit him as hard as this little redhead.

She didn't say anything. His expression darkened. This must've been what it felt like to die. And fuck it all, if he was laying it on the line – he might as well do it all, right?

Leaning forward, he slipped his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her mouth tight against his.

For a few, brief seconds everything stopped. Time, their heartbeats, anything that moved gave way to that space where his lips touched hers, burning off the poison of his nightmare with only the skeleton of the truth he had told her left behind.

Startled, she pulled away, hand lifting to her lips. A slight blush crept across her cheeks. "Well…" Well? That was all she could say? Well? Well, god damn it, his life was hanging in the balance here!

"Well?" Damn if he couldn't hear his voice shaking.

"Well, I think you'd better ask me on a date."

His grin split his face from side to side. "Go out with me?" Pure ecstasy ripped through him when she nodded, laughing quietly. The pain slipped away as he laughed with her, the blackness of nighttime vanishing in the brightness of her face.

Fuck you, Voldemort. You've got nothing on Lily Evans.


End file.
